Max and Theos Brief but Passionate History of Fishing
Last year about this time, I posted about our desire to make fishing a regular part of the boys lives.
Here is Theo a year ago at the West Chester KOA...
Well, we actually made good on this one. We showed up in the Finger Lakes last summer with two fishing poles (courtesy of Ami, grandmother extraordinaire) and put them to good use.
This year the boys were determined to go fishing on their very first camping trip of the year. At home they repeatedly reminded us to pack the fishing poles. Then, from the moment we arrived at the campground, they harassed us mercilessly about heading down to the river. So even though the sky was heavy and threatening rain at any moment, we got the poles and the bait and hiked down on Saturday afternoon.
Wes was his usual accommodating self and tagged along in the Moby Wrap:
The boys are not exactly calm while they fish. They still maintain a certain level of shimmering energy that makes a parent worry that they might fall into the river at any moment.
But they do quiet down a bit.
And they hope. You can feel the excitement--the potential--every time they cast out their line. Up until now, they had managed to catch something every time we took them fishing.
Not this time. The disappointment was evident, but it was nice as a mother to watch them grapple with it and then put it to the side. The rain started coming down and we scrambled back up the trail getting wet and muddy, already talking about the next time, and those huge fish just waiting to be hooked.
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